The Hitchhiker
by gammadolphin
Summary: Charlie Bradbury was no stranger to picking up hitchhikers, but there was something different about the dark-haired man she took in that night. She was going to figure out what it was, and what she could do to help him.


_**A/N:** This is just an idea that I've had bouncing around my head since we saw Cas in that convenience store. I finally wrote it up, and I hope you enjoy!_

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I doubt it needs to be said at this point, but I do not own the characters or storylines of Supernatural._

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**The Hitchhiker**

**By gammadolphin**

Charlie Bradbury was known for picking up hitchhikers. She remembered what it was like to be stranded, to have nowhere to go with no way to get there. She remembered the rush of hope that each incoming set of headlights brought, and remembered the crushing disappointment of watching them blast by her without stopping. She tried to never be the one to cause that kind of disappointment.

She had standards for who she would pick up, of course, but the dark-haired man by the side of the road that night did not look threatening. He just looked lost. Not to mention the fact that he had been thoroughly soaked by the rain pouring down on him. So she pulled her battered little car over, rolling down the passenger window.

"Need a ride?" she called gently. The man glanced around cautiously, as if he were afraid of being followed, then leaned down to study Charlie herself. Apparently she passed his inspection, because he pulled the door open and settled into the car, wiping the rain out of his eyes and pulling his damp sweatshirt tighter around his shoulders.

"A ride would be wonderful, thank you," he told her.

"Where are you headed?" asked Charlie cheerfully, turning the heat up when she noticed the shivers wracking her passenger's body. She did not expect her question to cause the man's face to fill with misery and uncertainty. "You don't know, do you?" she asked more gently.

"No," said the man softly. "I'm…homeless."

That was another situation Charlie was familiar with. She took one hand off the wheel to place it on the man's shoulder for a moment.

"Well, do you have any friends you can stay with?" she asked. He chuckled bitterly.

"Apparently not."

Charlie could tell that there was a story there, but the man clearly did not want to talk about it. But she did not know what to do with him if he was not going anywhere. She was not sure how to help him.

"Ok. What's your name, then?" The man was silent. Charlie glanced over at him curiously. "That was supposed to be the easy question, buddy."

The man met her eyes, an apology written on his face.

"I…" he trailed off, turning away from Charlie to stare out of the window.

Charlie sighed, looking over at him again. She was familiar with that feeling too, of not knowing who to trust with her name.

"I'm just going to call you Steve, then," she told him. He looked back at her, surprised.

"Why?"

"I just finished reading the biography of Steve Jobs," Charlie answered honestly with a grin. "Besides, you don't look like a Steve. Picking an alias that doesn't fit you helps you to keep a grip on who you are."

"I see," said Steve, studying Charlie shrewdly. "You seem to be speaking from experience."

"Oh yeah," said Charlie without thinking, remembering the dozens of aliases that she had used over the years. But then she realized how that might sound to a stranger who had just gotten into the car with her, and she hastened to backtrack. "But don't worry; I'm not a hardcore criminal or anything, I've just had a couple…misunderstandings with the police. I'm not going to take you back to my dungeon and murder you or anything. Because I don't have a dungeon. Not that I would murder you if I had a dungeon!"

She laughed nervously, and Steve stared at her. He did not seem alarmed though, merely curious. He probably had not been worried about being abducted by a girl practically half his size in the first place.

"So what do you go by now?" he asked, ignoring her rambling.

"Charlie," she answered automatically, then winced. Because she did not go by Charlie anymore, not with anyone but the Winchesters. But it was the name that she was most comfortable with, the name that she associated with her friends, and it had just slipped out of her mouth. She had broken her own rule, gotten attached to a name that was not her own. She thought she knew what had caused the change.

But her slip-up did not matter. Who was Steve going to tell? Besides, it might be nice to have someone else call her Charlie for a few hours.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Charlie," said Steve. "I appreciate the kindness you are showing me."

The depth of his sincerity startled Charlie. She peered over at him again, wishing that she could examine his face more carefully, but really not wanting to kill them both in a car crash.

"Not many people have shown you kindness, huh?" she asked. Steve sighed.

"I suppose they've never really had the occasion," he told her. "I have not spent very much time with humanity, except with my…my friends."

The last word tripped off his tongue as if he was unsure about whether or not it still applied. His face grew morose again.

"Well, just FYI Steve," said Charlie, "a lot of people are kind if you give them the chance."

"I'm beginning to see that," said Steve, giving Charlie a small smile. "It is both heartening and painful."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm not…I don't feel like a bad person, but I have made so many mistakes…" His icy blue eyes looked haunted, and Charlie wondered what they had seen. Too much, if Steve's face was any indication.

"Everybody's made mistakes, Steve," she said encouragingly. "It's another thing that kind of comes along with the whole humanity package."

For some reason, that seemed to amuse the man.

"Perhaps," he said with a twisted smile. "But the scale of my mistakes…I have caused a tremendous amount of suffering. More than I could ever hope to atone for."

Charlie was silent for a long moment, watching mile marker after mile marker tick past. What had she gotten herself into? This guy did not look like some of the criminals that she had seen, did not look like a bad guy at all, but there was no mistaking the guilt in his eyes. He felt personally responsible for a lot of pain, and she did not know how to deal with that. But she had to try.

"Look, Steve, I don't pretend to know what you did, but I do know that sometimes good people do bad things because they think they're doing what's right." She broke off for a moment, smiling slightly. "Hell, a friend of mine almost caused the end of the world, and he's one of the best people I know."

Steve looked at her sharply.

"What?" she asked.

"It's nothing, I suppose," he said, settling back into his seat. "It's just, I know someone like that as well."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. How many people had almost caused the end of the world? She had been talking about Sam Winchester, but surely Steve could not be referring him as well. Hardly anyone knew about what Sam had done, and even fewer people would still consider Sam a good man if they did. Unless…

She took her eyes off the road for longer than she should have, staring at the quiet man beside her. Dark hair, blue eyes, sturdy but slender build…the description fit. But no, the man beside her could not possibly be the Castiel that she had read about. Castiel was an angel, he would never need to hitch a ride on a rainy night; he could just fly wherever he wanted. Besides, even if he did need a ride, Sam and Dean would provide it, and a place to stay, now that they had the Batcave. Not to mention the fact that Steve was not wearing Castiel's signature trench coat.

She shook herself mentally, returning her eyes to the road and her mind to their conversation.

"And this friend of yours, you still care about him, still think he deserves forgiveness?" she asked Steve. He smiled, a distant but warm smile, and Charlie could see the fond memories behind it.

"Yes," he said firmly. "His mistakes were made with the best of intentions, and he has more than paid for them since then. He is a good man."

"Well, there you go," said Charlie. "I'm sure that the same thing can be said of you."

Steve looked unconvinced. Charlie sighed in frustration. She was not sure why it was so important to her for Steve to be happy, but there was something compelling about him, something that made her want to ease some of the pain in his ancient eyes.

"Like I said, I don't know what you did, but I can tell you that a bad person wouldn't be agonizing this much about whatever they've done."

"I suppose not," said Steve, weariness written across his features. There was not much more for either of them to say, so they lapsed into a comfortable silence for the next several miles.

"You know, if it makes you feel any better, a lot of people can be assholes too," said Charlie eventually, startling a laugh out of Steve. It sounded strange, as if it had not happened in a very long time. There was bitterness mixed in with the amusement.

"I guess they can," he said, his tone lighter than before. "Although that is not a trait unique to humans."

"Yeah, cats can be real assholes sometimes," said Charlie.

"Yes. Right. Cats," said Steve hastily. Charlie looked over at him again, certain that he had not been thinking about cats when he had made that comment. Of course, she could think of some unsavory non-humans, particularly one whose name started with D and ended with ick Roman, but Steve could not be talking about supernatural creatures, could he? He did not look remotely like a hunter. Although, that would explain some of the weight in his eyes. She decided not to press the issue. Not yet, at least.

"You never said where you were taking me," said Steve, filling the sudden silence.

"Oh yeah," said Charlie, having momentarily forgotten about that particular issue. She had been operating on autopilot, absorbed in the conversation with the strange man next to her. Where was she supposed to take him? She took in his grave, desolate face, and made a decision. "I'll stop driving when you stop looking lost. Or until I run out of gas, whichever comes first."

They both glanced at her gas gauge, which showed that she had almost a full tank.

"No, I can't ask that of you," said Steve quickly.

"You're not asking, I'm offering," Charlie told him. When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. "Actually, I'm not offering, I'm insisting. Now pick a direction; north or south. We've already been going west."

"North, I suppose," said Steve when he realized that he would not be able to change Charlie's mind.

"North it is." Charlie took the appropriate exit.

"Don't you have something to get back to?" Steve asked in concern. "A family, a job, anything?"

"Nah," replied Charlie, shrugging off the still-fresh pain of losing her mother for good a few months ago. "No family, and no job after tonight."

"What happened tonight?"

"I may or may not have destroyed the reputation of the company I was working for."

"Oh. Why?" There was no judgment in Steve's voice, merely curiosity.

"They were outsourcing to child labor. Not cool. I couldn't abide by that, and I didn't think anyone else would when they knew the truth, so I made sure the truth was out there. The company will either have to clean up their act or declare bankruptcy when everyone boycotts them. Either way, it's a win for the kids, and a clear conscience for me."

"I see. It was brave of you to stand up to your employers."

"Something tells me that you can relate," said Charlie, noticing the odd tone with which Steve had just spoken. He smiled sadly.

"Yes, I suppose I can," he said, turning his gaze towards the dark window. "That is one thing that I have learned; how to stand up for what I believe in. It just hardly ever seems to turn out well. For anybody."

"Well, what's the alternative? To sit by and watch while bad things keep happening? That doesn't seem like the best choice."

"No."

They both lapsed into silence again. Charlie had done all that she could to ease whatever burden that Steve was carrying, and now all she could do was get him where he needed to go. Of course, it would be easier if she knew exactly where that was. But if she was being honest with herself, she was enjoying the adventure that Steve had brought. She found that she kind of liked the feeling of not knowing where she was going when her life was not at stake. She also did not mind running away now that her most recent life had imploded.

"I once met a human who enjoyed stuffing popsicles up his nostrils," said Steve abruptly. Charlie stared at the man for several seconds before she realized that the comment had been his attempt at small talk.

"Well, that is not typical of people," said Charlie once she had finished laughing. "Where exactly did you meet that guy?"

"I was in a mental facility at the time. Mike Atkins was my neighbor. He would ask for my popsicle every Friday. I gave them to him because I enjoyed seeing how many he could fit in his nose. I believe his record was four in each nostril."

"That's impressive," said Charlie, surprised at how easily Steve admitted that he had been in a psych hospital. "I'm not sure I would want to challenge that."

"No, I would certainly not recommend trying," Steve told her. "I could only manage one before I got what my caretaker called a brainfreeze."

Charlie chuckled at the mental image of the serious man sitting next to her trying to shove frozen fruit juice up his nose.

"Then I'll be sure to let the record stand," said Charlie. "I knew a girl who could…"

They spent the following miles exchanging stories. Charlie also took the time to impart some advice that she hoped would help Steve stay safe and out of trouble when she got him settled wherever he ended up.

The rain had stopped and the pink glow of dawn was brightening the sky by the time the gas light came on in Charlie's car. She glanced over at Steve, who had fallen asleep about an hour earlier. She had told him that she would take him as far as she could on one tank of gas, but she found that she was not quite ready to see him go yet.

So she said nothing as she pulled into the nearest gas-n-sip, opening the door quietly and walking up to the pump to fill up the tank. As she was starting the car and preparing to pull out of the gas station, a quiet voice stopped her.

"I thought you said you weren't a kidnapper."

Charlie sighed, putting the car back in park and turning to face the newly conscious Steve, who had one eyebrow raised.

"Actually, I believe I said I'm not a murderer," said Charlie defensively. "I made no promises about kidnapping."

"Charlie, you've done far too much for me already," said Steve with an earnest smile. "I'll be alright. And we had a deal."

"I can't just leave you in the middle of nowhere, dude! Where will you stay? What will you eat? I'm gonna worry about you if you don't let me take care of you."

Steve sighed, taking in their surroundings. He brightened as his gaze fell on the convenience store attached to the gas station.

"There," he said, pointing to one of the store windows, in which a "Now Hiring" sign was posted. "I can get a job here."

"Steve, you'll be making minimum wage. Do you know how hard it is to live off of that?" Charlie did. It was part of why she had worked so hard on her hacking skills, so she would never have to face that kind of poverty again.

"I'll manage," said Steve determinedly. "I always manage. It's time I learned to survive in this world on my own."

Charlie could see the stubbornness written across Steve's features, and knew that she was not going to sway him on this.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. "Do you have a phone?"

Steve nodded, pulling a cell out of his pocket and staring down at it bemusedly. The thing looked about five years old, but it should still be functional.

"Good," said Charlie, taking it from him. She went into his contact list, entering her most recent number. There were only three other numbers in the list. Dean, Sam, and The Bunker. Charlie froze for a fraction of a second, staring down at the screen, then pulled herself together and handed the phone back to Steve. "Call me if you need anything," she told him sternly. "I mean it. Even if you just want to talk, or have questions about…human things."

Because she was now starting to deeply suspect that the man beside her had not been human for long.

"I…I will," said Steve, smiling faintly at his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. "Thank you, Charlie."

"Don't mention it."

"Alright, but why?"

"Why what?"

"Why can't I mention it?"

"It's an expression, Steve."

"Oh."

"Uh, you have to get out of the car in order to apply for a job," prompted Charlie gently after Steve remained in his seat.

"Right. Of course." Steve sighed, pushing his door open and clambering out of the car. Charlie rolled down the window, leaning towards her new friend.

"Take care of yourself, Cas," she said with a sad smile.

"You do the same, Charlie," said the solemn man, returning the smile. "And thank you again, for everything."

Charlie waved, pulling out of the gas station before Castiel could realize that she had figured out who he was. She did not know how the angel had become a human, or why Sam and Dean were not helping him, but she knew he was tough and resourceful. He would be alright. And if he wasn't, she would be there.

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_**A/N: **I hope you liked the story! I would love to hear what you think, so please leave a review. Thanks!_


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